Dry Ice
by x3 Samantha
Summary: Inspired by the Inception Kink meme on LJ. Arthur performs inception on Ariadne to make her fall in love with him. She finds out.


Disclaimer: Belongs to Nolan. I bow to him. Literally.

Author's Note: I wrote this in response to a wonderful prompt that begged to be filled on the Inception Kink meme.

Forgive me, my porn writing skills are poor, at best.

Also, please forgive my absence for the last couple of days. My intention was to bang out at least one of these drabbles a night but last week I got sun-poisoning because I'm a gigantic idiot who decided to sunbathe on a ninety degree beach in Ocean City without putting on any sun screen. This is the first day where nothing really hurt enough to incapacitate me so I'm back on the wagon. Please enjoy and leave a review if you feel so inclined.

Arthur knew he was in trouble when he did it. It was wrong, wrong, one _hundred_ thousand times wrong. But he loved her and he knew, just _knew_, that she could love him too; she just needed some gentle _cajoling. _That's all it was. He was sure of it.

He was certain that for those thirty seconds where he watched her mind go blank that she had forgotten how to breathe. Ariadne was certain that she forgot why it was even necessary. How _could_ he? She had tried to scream that at him but the lack of air in her lungs… Arthur had cringed and turned his face down. Ariadne's blank slate of a mind had quickly filled up with rage and disbelief and about a 528,491 different awful things to call the man she loved. Or was forced to love. Or had maybe loved on her own. She would never know now. It had always amazed Ariadne how incredibly stupid intelligent men could be.

When she finally moved her eyes to look at him she felt her brain shut off and her anger turn itself on. He didn't even have the decency to look her in the eye as he betrayed her. "You broke it. You tainted my reality Arthur. Do you even know; do you _comprehend_ what that means?" Her voice was dry ice. A trait she would later recognize as learned from her mother. A trait extremely effect in making the person it was being used against feel like the scum they had been deemed to be. Arthur flinched and looked up at her. He swallowed harshly, fighting the urge to immediately look away from the hatred in his eyes. He had made the fatal error of not calculating that into his inception.

Arthur had never been very good at taking reprimands. Primarily because he seldom did anything to deserve them. However today was not one of those instances. "How am I ever supposed to know what's real again Arthur?" The point-man frowned, his eyes darkening.

"That's a little dramatic don't you think?" Her hand hit his cheek instantly. She emphatically did _not_ agree with him.

"I don't _feel_ this Arthur! I don't love you!" Arthur's eyes narrowed.

"You _do._" Ariadne crossed her arms.

"Love is a choice. I am _bound_ to you. A servant to the emotion that you _forced_ me to feel, Arthur." She was spitting his name, like a curse you reserved for your worst enemies. Arthur knew what she was hinting at and he very nearly hated her for it.

"You have a choice Ariadne. You are choosing as we speak. It's an _idea_. Are you too weak to ignore an idea?" Her hands feel into tight white balls by her sides.

"It's an emotion!" He rushed her, pinning her into the wall by his hips.

"Emotions can be denied but you _can't_ deny this one Ariadne. It was there all along."

"Because you planted it there Arthur!" She was screeching at him now. He didn't care. He would not, _could_ not lose this one.

"You accepted it."

"I don't even know if it's real!" His lips crushed hers, bruised hers, hurt hers. But he was used to hurting her by now. She whimpered. She wanted to fight him off. She wanted him to leave her alone. She wanted some logical way to sort this out and determine what was real. She couldn't have any of it. So she fought back. One hand threaded itself through his ever-perfect hair, the other wrapped around his rapidly wrinkling silk tie.

He rushed, never letting her up for air. Not even once. She would feel the oxygen escape her lungs. She would feel her flimsy panties rip across her bottom. She would feel him pound into her. And she did. She screamed and she clawed his chest raw and she bit his lips until they bled. She would frown while she stitched it back together later, but she would never apologize. They came together, somehow on the floor now. Ariadne could feel a knot forming on the back of her head as she came down from her high. Love marks met battle scars on their bodies as they tried to right their breathing patterns.

"Ariadne I'm—" he cut himself off, because he wasn't.


End file.
